"The rumors are not entirely off target," she said cautiously. "Thann losses were not very great, that much is true, but it is inconceivable that one of the consortium partners betrayed the others."
"Oh? Why is that?"
"The answer should be obvious," the noblewoman said. "Consider our past—the devastation of the Guild Wars when the families battled in the streets. There is no clan so foolish as to believe they could succeed in such an endeavor, and so none would engage in so blatant a challenge. Only outsiders, those who attempt to wedge their foot inside the door, would attempt such a ridiculous thing."
"Not so ridiculous," the half-elf pointed out. "By all reports, at least two-score men and elves died in that ambush. The cargo is gone. Some might call that success."
The noblewoman gave Arilyn a supercilious smile. "Rumors are like drunken men," she observed. "Most of the time they babble nonsense, but sometimes a truth slips out that would otherwise be unspoken."
"Such as?"
"Let us consider Elaith Craulnober. Few have dared accuse the elf lord before, or if they did, they often dropped their accusation before the Lords Council met for judgment. Those few who persisted in their suit were never able to trail the elf's misdeeds to the source. This time, however, Craulnober has overstepped, and the truth about him is being spoken aloud."
"That, I doubt," Arilyn said without hesitation. "I have known Elaith for several years. I certainly won't argue that he is without stain, but never have I known him to act so openly or foolishly. There is a reason why his misdeeds are so hard to trace. He is clever."
"So was the theft of the air caravan."
"I've seen better," the half-elf said bluntly. "The ambush required information and planning, but little cunning. I do not see Elaith's hand in this."
Cassandra affixed her with a look of cold incredulity. "You defend him?"
"I'm just trying to see all the runes on the page. There is something more going on than a single bandit attack. Danilo said that he told you Oth Eltorchul was killed by tren assassins. Elaith was recently attacked by similar assassins—in your villa."
The noblewoman's steady gaze did not falter at any part of this litany. "You hold Thann responsible for this, I suppose."
"Not yet," Arilyn returned, "but it is possible that Elaith might."
"I see your point," the woman allowed, "but that is all the more reason for him to take vengeance on one of our business interests."
The reasoning was logical enough, but Arilyn shook her head. "Do you know who died in that ambush? Elves, mostly. Among them were four young warriors not long from Evermeet. They were Eagle Riders and among the most respected elven warriors. Whatever else Elaith might do, whatever he might be, I cannot believe that he would condemn those lads to certain death."
"Why not? If there is any truth at all to the legends and tavern tales, Elaith Craulnober has slain hundreds in his misspent life and barely stopped to clean his blade."
"Never an elf," Arilyn persisted. "As far as I know, never that. I admit that might be scant virtue in this claim, but there is a pattern. Everything I know about Elaith Craulnober leads me to believe him guiltless in this matter."
Cassandra sat back and regarded the younger woman with an icy gaze. "You know what you are saying, of course. You are accusing at least one of the noble families of betrayal, theft, and murder. That is a very serious accusation."
The half-elf did not flinch. "Someone knew the caravan route well in advance, and laid ambush. Someone is responsible for the death of those elves. It is my business to see that they pay for it. If for some reason I do not, Elaith Craulnober most likely will. For once, you should pay heed to what rumors say. Do not take either of us lightly."
The woman's lips twitched. "I am put on notice," she said with an unexpected touch of dark humor. "I suppose I ought to thank you for the warning."
"Don't bother. Just don't pass the warning along."
"Bargain made," the noblewoman agreed. "In any event, I would hardly put about the fact that my son's companion—a suspected assassin, as you have taken great pains to remind me—is hounding among the peerage for a traitor. There is scandal enough without this returning to my door!" She gave Arilyn a wry, sidelong glance. "Is there any hope of turning you from this path?"
"None."
Cassandra nodded as if she had expected this. "In that case I, too, have a warning. Nothing good will come of this inquiry, either for you or for Danilo. If you must persist, keep your eyes open and your sword at hand, and see that you keep good watch over my son."
"As I have done for these past six years," Arilyn said stiffly.
"Really? That is a marvel, considering that you are so seldom in Danilo's company. Think nothing of that. Your dedication to the elven people is admirable, I'm sure. Ah, we are back at the gate. You will return to the party, of course."
It was an order, not a question. Since she could see little profit in prolonging the interview, Arilyn descended and watched the departing carriage.
Lady Cassandra's words troubled her deeply. Until now, she had shrugged aside Cassandra's small digs and genteel sarcasm as easily as she might wave away a persistent gnat. Arilyn was well accustomed to slights. When it came to subtle insults, not even the most supercilious noble could hold a candle to an elf, and half-elves were favorite targets for elven slings and arrows.
However, this time things were different, and the noblewoman was letting her know that beyond doubt. Like a master swordsman, Cassandra had slipped past Arilyn's guard and gone straight for her heart. She had used the sharpest sword that anyone could wield—the painful truth, plainly stated.
"Truth is the sharpest sword," Arilyn murmured. Those words steadied her resolve as she gathered up her shimmering skirts and headed for the Raventree mansion. She and Danilo would find the truth, and that weapon would serve to cut through the deceit and intrigue. That would put things to rights.
A small, fluttering movement drew her eye. The autumn wind was brisk, and one of her discarded wings had been blown against the stone wall surrounding Galinda's garden. It lay there like a dying bird, ghostly amid the darkness of the stone and the swirling dry leaves.
Arilyn was not superstitious, but it seemed to her that the false wings spoke augury. She had cast off illusion, and the result was death. Though she did not waver in her determination to find her way to the truth, she could not help but wonder who might yet fall to that sharp sword.
* * * * *
Lilly hurriedly packed her belongings in preparation for the trip from Waterdeep, and to freedom. It was not a large task—a few pieces of clothing, her precious dream spheres, an ivory comb missing only a few teeth, a dented pewter mug, and a small but well-kept assortment of knives and picks.
She hesitated a moment before placing her thieving tools in her sack, for they seemed ill suited to the bright future ahead. Upon consideration, she tucked them inside and folded the bundle securely shut. A girl never knew what might need doing.
The door flew open so hard that it slammed against the wall. Lilly jumped and reached for a weapon. Too late, she remembered they were packed away.
Isabeau blew in like a leaf on a gale, more disheveled and wild-eyed than she'd been in the heat of battle.
"You're looking as if you've seen a ghost," Lilly commented, "and not a particularly friendly one at that."
That brought a faint, sickly smile to the woman's pale lips. She collected herself somewhat, but she continued to prowl about the small room as if seeking something of vital importance. The burlap sack seemed to be of special interest to her. As she eyed it, she began to toy with the strings that held her own purse to her waist.